


Spiderweb

by Tridraconeus



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Bad BDSM Etiquette, Blindfolds, Bondage, Fearplay, Fingering, M/M, No Aftercare, Sensory Deprivation, Shibari, Subspace, Trans Male Character, Unnegotiated Kink, Vaginal Fingering, death threats as dirty talk, sexual nonsexual relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:20:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27744373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tridraconeus/pseuds/Tridraconeus
Summary: “I could sever your spinal cord... paralyze you. Take my time. You wouldn’t even be able to feel it. Maybe I’ll slice open your throat and bleed you out.” He laid a cold finger lengthwise across Seb’s throat in tandem with the easy, morbid threat. Seb’s blood was rushing in his ears.  Revenant’s hand closed around his throat. “Or I could choke you. I don’t even think you’d fight.”A slight squeeze, a pang of terror subsumed wholly by arousal, and Revenant’s hand left the soft flesh of his throat.“But I’m not going to kill you,” he admitted, almost wistfully. “I’m not even going to make you wish I had. There’s a better death waiting for you.”
Relationships: Revenant (Apex Legends)/Original Male Character
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	Spiderweb

**Author's Note:**

> Almost tagged this "nonsexual bsdm" but it's really more "nonsexual bdsm becomes sexual".  
> minor background on Seb: lost most of his vision during a mining collapse when Kodai Industries detonated a depth charge to collapse a mine without checking to see that there was no one inside... now outspoken against them, and joined the games to pay for surgeries, legal fees, and other expenses for the miners that were trapped down there with him. Major dumb idiot crushes on Bloodhound and Revenant. Here's the [ vibe ](https://64.media.tumblr.com/3f4398536d431ac6c3b8c1ed5cbe2ae6/tumblr_pkesu7yAaB1x4jdtro1_540.jpg) for the bondage.

The room was dark.

Seb knew that it wasn’t, not really. Revenant had presented him with three things at the start of the evening, when he was walking back from the firing range; a heavy coil of red rope, several meters long and soft to the touch, magnetic pegs that would stick to the metal floor unless depolarized, and a long strip of fine black silk, layered to be opaque. 

“It’s not like you can see that well without that fancy helmet of yours,” he’d rationalized in an achingly low, husky register that made Seb cave immediately. It was true, anyhow; after the accident, he’d only ever been able to make out smears of light and color, the world dulled to a blur. The helmet helped, but left him with piercing headaches if he wore it for too long. 

Like in the games... strong painkiller helped. Kept him up and moving and tough. 

Outside, he used it only when necessary, and got around fine if he was just careful, and he’d even been training in the shooting range without it on and could semi-reliably hit the far targets if he had a good scope, and could usually hit the dummies with the dinky little P2020. He had no doubts it would be a different story on the battlefield, with moving targets that shot back, but it was reassuring to know that he’d have a fighting chance. 

But. The blindfold. The ropes, and the pegs. Seb’s room in the Apex Complex had a mostly-barren floor, just to keep him from stumbling over things and because he enjoyed the cleanliness, and when Revenant swept inside ahead of him he followed and shut the door. He followed the muted clanks of metal feet on metal flooring and sat on the cot, tying the blindfold without being asked. 

And so the room was dark.

He’d never liked the dark after the accident, either, or enclosed spaces. It just went to show how easily Revenant could get him to agree to things he normally wouldn’t dream of doing.

“Sit tight, skinsuit. I’m just setting up. And take your clothes off.”

Seb nodded mutely and pulled his legs up onto the cot as well, stripping down even though Revenant had never asked that of him before— tossing his clothes, all of them except the strip of silk over his eyes to the hamper in the corner— sitting cross-legged, and waited for Revenant to come get him.

They’d discovered it almost on accident, Seb taking well to being tied up. Not necessarily enjoying it— but with Revenant’s skilled hands in control, he bent and twisted into any position the simulacrum wanted him in, and the meditative motion of rope as it closed around his body sent him to a similarly meditative headspace. 

Revenant just liked the power rush, Seb was moderately sure. He liked to see his handiwork on a living target in elegant, intricate torture. Seb let him, and wasn’t afraid; the worst that ever happened was Revenant leaving him in a limp pile on the floor, surrounded by scraps of rope, to recover his wits and drag himself to the cot. It always did take him a while to bounce back. He didn’t know why it had such an affect on him. 

“Stay with me,” Revenant purred. Seb wasn’t allowed to slip under just yet. He dragged himself up with effort, a pitiful _hmm_ of acknowledgment in the back of his throat. A too-tight hand on his bicep tugged him off of the bed and pulled him into what Seb could only assume was the middle of the pegs, hands pushing him to his knees by the shoulders, indicating he should spread his legs out— raise his elbows— hold his head up. 

Seb never knew how he looked in the ties, but could frequently guess what they were. Revenant started in with a relatively simple harness and finally, Seb let himself go. Minutes passed in a dreamlike, agonizing blur of firm taps, the erstwhile push, being guided into position as the intricate pattern grew and he was bent over, knees to his chest and arms outstretched in front of him. 

It spread from his back like a net, or perhaps a spiderweb. Through countless tiny adjustments as Revenant had constructed the tie, it wasn’t uncomfortable at all. It was snug, and he didn’t have an inch to move, but Seb was too deep in the passive, languid headspace afforded by the rope to care. If Revenant only sliced a single taut line of rope at the tension point the whole pattern would fall into loose disarray, and Seb would be free. The thought sparked something close to unease in his chest, slicing through the fuzzy contentedness, and he silenced a low, pained moan only seconds after noticing that he was making it.

“Still with me?” 

Revenant was talking to him, a hand trailing down the intricate harness of rope on his back and plucking at the strands. Seb made a faint, weak noise in the back of his throat. It felt like he was fighting to get even that tiny sound of acknowledgment out.

“Speak,” Revenant prompted, tiny, desperate sounds evidently not enough for him. 

“Yyyyyy—” it slurred, coming out incomprehensible. “Mm,” Seb tried again, to no success. Revenant’s finger slid beneath the rope and tugged, the whole harness shifting and pressing against him, and with no avenue of resistance he keened and twitched helplessly. 

This— the ropes— had never been a particularly sexual experience. This, though, and definitely Seb being naked, was pushing into decidedly erotic territory. He was wet; the ropes that passed between his legs and looped around his thighs were just close enough to his core that he could imagine the texture higher, closer, tighter. 

There was no way Revenant hadn’t noticed. As his fingers danced over Seb’s flank, arranging the ropes to lay more prettily after Seb’s brief spurt of squirming, Seb realized with a bolt of _something_ that he had. 

“Getting excited, are you?” His voice and fingers both dipped, effortlessly growling and low. “You make a gamble, every time you let me touch you like this.” 

Seb made another noise, an attempt at response. Undaunted, the simulacrum continued. “You wouldn’t see it coming. Oh, you’d _know._ That’s not what I meant.” 

Even when he was in so deep his throat and tongue didn’t want to cooperate, his mind caught up with the teasing drawl before the thought was finished, and he strained against the ropes. They slid the tiniest bit, rubbing against him, the bruises and burns and old scars, and once again Revenant placed a hand flat on his back to still him before fixing the rope. A movement, a sensation of metal brushing his bare back, and suddenly the ropes were tight. 

Revenant wasn’t playing anymore— he was, Seb knew, logically, but the pitch of the play had changed. He turned his face against the warming metal floor just to feel the fading hint of chill and the softness of blindfold, some vain attempt to center himself. 

“No chance to react... no chance to defend yourself. You’re entirely at my mercy. Now, why would you do that, you silly thing?”

Seb tried to quake, to shudder, but he was sinking into it and the ropes had no more give besides. Before, Revenant had never spoken to him like this. Had never had him fully naked before, either; he’d always been in pants, at least, and usually a tank top as well, the barrier of fabric painting some veneer of respectability over the fact that he was wholly submitting to an assassin so they could both satisfy complimentary urges. 

Now, he was naked, and he’d never gotten particularly aroused before but now he certainly was, and he knew Revenant saw the glimmer of wetness on his mound. Knew he was getting off on this, which somehow felt like a betrayal of the otherwise strictly business exchange of intimacy. 

Seb tried to feel ashamed. Revenant was still touching him, plucking at a taut rope looped around one of the pegs and sliding up it to brush along his skin, heated now. Nudging a spot right between his ribs, the angle such that if Revenant wanted to he could slice between the bones and pierce his heart. 

Seb closed his mouth and curved his neck to get away from the tiny puddle of drool he’d made, and once again tried to feel ashamed. 

“Let’s see... how many ways could I kill you right now?” Revenant crooned, indulgent. 

Seb’s breath caught. Usually, when Revenant finished a tie, he’d retreat to the cot or desk to look at it, how Seb was held docile and still. Sometimes he’d pet him, following the elegant lines of rope. 

He rarely talked. That, like the smoldering buzz of arousal at Seb’s core, was new. 

“Here, of course. That’s the most merciful way I could do it.” 

A low sigh, and his fingers moved. They skimmed over his back and up his spine, settling at the base of his neck. “What about here? My favorite. So many things to do.” 

It was only about the awful pain he could inflict, but Seb found himself wanting it if only Revenant would keep speaking to him like that. He was afraid, of course. It surged against the placid fuzziness of his head, the cocoon of rope. He opened his mouth in an attempt to speak but all that came out was hazy, disoriented panting. 

“I could sever your spinal cord... paralyze you. Take my time. You wouldn’t even be able to feel it. Maybe I’ll slice open your throat and bleed you out.” He laid a cold finger lengthwise across Seb’s throat in tandem with the easy, morbid threat. Seb’s blood was rushing in his ears. He felt glued to the ground; his sex spasmed, oozed slick. Revenant’s hand closed around his throat. “Or I could choke you. I don’t even think you’d fight.” 

A slight squeeze, a pang of terror subsumed wholly by arousal, and Revenant’s hand left the soft flesh of his throat. 

“But I’m not going to kill you,” he admitted, almost wistfully. “I’m not even going to make you wish I had. There’s a better death waiting for you.” His hand trailed down Seb’s back once more, resting on his flank, gliding inwards and Seb could have cried for joy as Revenant sheathed two slender, lethal fingers in his dripping warmth without even a nudge of warning and started to pump. Slow, languid, unhurried. Seb couldn’t even twitch. He managed cooing, injured-sounding moans as Revenant dipped in and out of him. He was clenching hard with no discernible pattern; his body felt too heavy to move even if the ropes weren’t there. 

It wasn’t that he never took care of himself, but the Games were demanding and most of his time was spent training, fixing his gear, or trying to learn about the other competitors before meeting a nasty surprise on the battlefield, and as a result he had not taken time to himself for well over a month. And sure, he’d gotten kind of sticky in his pants the last time Bloodhound had straddled his chest and shoved their knife into the side of his neck and told him to _be proud; your strength showed life_ , or Revenant tauntingly urging him to _beg for mercy_ before punching a hole through his chest, but he’d crossed that off as _one_ , who didn’t have at least a little bit of a crush on Bloodhound, and _two_ , he’d been so pent up that the timbre of Revenant’s voice would logically do terrible things to him. 

Revenant didn’t seem to have any interest in teasing. He crooked his fingers just right and Seb keened, an open-mouthed exclamation of shock and pleasure, and ground his fingers down on that spot until Seb felt tears pricking at his eyes, wetting the blindfold, another string of spit dripping down his chin and slick glistening on his thighs. 

The simulacrum was merciless. Seb’s hips twitched helplessly as Revenant assaulted that spot, ruthlessly fingerfucking him now but still so slow that each torturous grind into his sweet spot felt like an eternity, each drag out against his walls burned and every time he sank back in the frictionless slide ached, sweeping him up and whiting his thoughts out into a screaming buzz of need.

His tongue was too clumsy to beg. He slurred out something that may have passed for _please_ , but Revenant didn’t alter his pace at all. 

When Seb came the world fell away. His head filled up with static. Revenant’s touch felt like pinpoints of fire inside and out, licking up his body and piercing him impossibly deep. The ropes caged him, holding him down in position and preventing him from touching himself, from stretching out, from rocking back into Revenant’s touch. He wanted it so bad he felt like he was dying, some pitiful fly wrapped up in the spider’s web and conscious of the horror to befall it but helpless to do anything; not when the slightest struggle only wrapped it tighter. 

He fell limp and loose, and he actually _was_ crying, aimless overwhelmed tears of mixed pleasure and fear. He didn’t know why he was acting like this. Didn’t know how to stop. That should have been frightening, not the empty threats that Revenant would give substance to on the battlefield and not on Seb’s bunkroom floor.

Revenant stepped back, then, to survey his work. 

“You always look so good in red,” he growled. Seb was too far gone to do more than track his movement as he paced in a circle around the net, occasionally picking at the rope. 

Ten minutes must have passed between Revenant making him come with vicious efficiency and pacing around his motionless body before— with no warning— he depolarized one of the pegs, picked it up, and the entire construction loosened. Seb fell to his side and the tight curl opened up the slightest bit, and now with space to shudder he did. Revenant helped only enough to where he wouldn’t tangle himself hopelessly or worse, strangle on accident, but these ropes were obviously his to keep and tuck away in the bottom drawer with the other ropes Revenant had... gifted him. 

“Keep the blindfold,” the simulacrum directed. He was at the door; Seb heard him as if from another planet. “I like how it makes you act.”

The door clicked shut. Seb turned to his other side and pillowed his head in his arms, and now that it was over allowed himself to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave a kudos or a comment if you enjoyed!


End file.
